


Pleasure

by crystalblinks (orphan_account)



Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Mob, Dancing, Domestic Violence, M/M, Physical Abuse, Samsteve - Freeform, Science Boyfriends, Sexual Abuse, Steve's a fucking asshole in this one folks, T'chucky - Freeform, club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-16 05:04:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8088376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/crystalblinks
Summary: “I don’t do one night stands.”“Then let’s not make this one night.” Bucky was smooth, the way he seemed to embody both the sea and the land, safe and dangerous, yet powerful in ways that weren’t linked to money or violence. I could feel myself drowning by the shore as he tugged on my waist, devilish smile etched onto his lips.“Alright.”





	1. Rose Colored Glasses

July 17th 10:03pm 

The club, the one on third street across from the warehouse was filled to the brim with every kind of person from every walk of life. The space housed so many bodies, dancing, drinking, fucking, all illuminated by the flashing of soft pink lights. It was so fucking warm, the way the heat of life merged with the summer night, it was one of those nights that I couldn't tell left from right, my glass from hers and some days I think that's just how Tony wanted it. To blur into the night, to conceal the ongoings of the club, it was smart like Tony’s ideas often are, not that we ever gave him credit for it. He may have been the boss but he was still the asshole kid me and Steve grew up with. 

It wasn’t not hard to find him though, sitting in the very back booth like he always was, whiskey swirling in his glass, his eyes scanning the whirlwind crowd. The club was Tony’s favorite venue. We controlled bars and clubs all over the city, but this was his first, his baby. When Tony was thrust into the business by the death of his parents and the betrayal of his friend, the only things that kept his head above water were his pet project and Bruce. Tucked into the booth next to him, viewing the nightly spectacle, was Bruce Banner. All curls and smarts he kept Tony grounded, kept him alive. They were so attuned to each other that their connection was almost psychic, not that I was the kind of person who ever believed in shit like that, and if I was a man of science I’d probably say their relationship was more chemical than anything. People called them the King and Queen of Brooklyn, well only if they want to get their teeth kicked in. But derogatory name aside they controlled the city with an iron fist. Tony more so than Bruce, but the man was fucking scary when he was angry. I’d only pissed him off once, when he’d first gotten with Tony and lost my arm for it. Mostly. When I told that story I’d always say he’d tore my arm off with his big hulking hands. In reality he scared me, scarred me and then my dumbass fell out of a moving train. 

“Have you seen Sam?” Steve asked, his movements jumpy his eyes darting from across the room. He’d been obsessively checking his phone since we got to the bar and while I knew he was worried it was slightly annoying.

“In the five seconds since you asked me last? Can’t say I have.” 

He frowned, his forehead creasing. “He said he would be here at 10.” I placed a calming hand on his shoulder. Steve had a tendency to blow things out of proportion when it came to Sam and while the doting boyfriend thing did wonders for their relationship it almost drove me bonkers. The swing of the back door was enough to draw his attention from  his incessant time checking. When Sam entered the crazed crowd my eyes weren’t on him, but on the man he dragged behind him. Dark eyes scanned the crowd intently and when they locked onto mine they never let go. 

Sam finally pushed his way into the crowd, his smile bright until he saw the look on Steve’s face.

“Who the fuck is this?” Steve asked, voice sickly sweet. That was the voice which meant he was fucking pissed, and by the way Sam flinched he knew it too.

“My name is T’Challa, I used to work with Sam.” His voice became sharper on the word  _ used _ and I suddenly felt like I wasn’t in on the joke. “He invited me out tonight if that’s okay with you.” 

“Peachy.” Steve grabbed onto Sam’s wrist and pulled him harshly towards the dance floor, despite Sam’s protests.

“Aye, Stevie loosen up a bit.” He dismissed my words with a grunt and continued on, whispering into Sam’s ear as he pulled him onto the dance floor. In my peripheral vision I could see T’Challa straighten slightly. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself, name’s Bucky.”

T’Challa’s lips quirked. “I have heard many stories about you from Sam.”

“Good ones I hope.” He laughed lightly.

“Mostly.” 

T’Challa smiled at me and damn was he was so fucking beautiful. “Hey uh, you want to dance? Might as well since the love birds abandoned us.” He frowned at  _ love birds _ but outstretched his hand and lead me into the swampy night.

 

July 17th 9:19 pm

“I’m going with you.” T’Challa’s voice boomed throughout the apartment, his eyes narrowed in on my face. It was hard to take his seriously in a leotard and pointe shoes, but the words out weighed his appearance. 

“Do you have a death wish? You’re going to get me killed and then you killed and then me again. He’s powerful T, you don’t fuck with Steve Rogers.” 

T’Challa rolled his eyes. “Power is nothing if you abuse it, and besides all of this would disappear with a well timed call to the police.”

“No! We talked about this! If Steve gets taken down so do Tony and Bucky and Bruce and they’ve been nothing but kind to me.”

“Fine, but I’m going. If only to look this bastard in the eye.” 

 

July 17th 10:11pm

“He just took Sam to the back room. We need to do something about this.” Tony who’s hand slowly crept my thigh stilled. 

“And what do you propose?” His eyes which had this honey quality to them under the rose lighting were narrowed.

“Wait until he feels invincible, then we’ll strike.” Tony smiled in the way he does when I say things like that. He won’t admit to it turning him on, but he doesn’t have to.

“What happens to Sam in the meantime?” 

The man who’d entered with Sam grabbed Bucky’s hand and lead him onto the dance floor, his eyes scanning the room in well hidden concern. “Don’t worry. Sam’s being taken care of.” Tony’s eyes followed mine. He nodded, and resumed his teasing.

 

July 17th 11:24pm

“Come home with me.” Bucky whispered into my ear, his breath vacant of vice. He’d spent the night nipping at my neck, moving our bodies to the beat and there was something so intoxicating about this man that we didn’t even need alcohol. 

“I don’t do one night stands.”

“Then let’s not make this one night.” He was smooth, the way he seemed to embody both the sea and the land, safe and dangerous, yet powerful in ways that weren’t linked to money or violence. I could feel myself drowning by the shore as he tugged on my waist, devilish smile etched onto his lips.

“Alright.”

 

July 17th 11:56pm

“Steve, what happened to Sam’s face?” His face falls a little bit as he looks from me to Bruce who’s face is impassive as always.

“We were having some fun in the backroom,” He clapped me on the back, his eyes dancing in the lights. “Don’t worry Boss, he’ll be fine in the morning.” 

 

July 17th 10:34pm

He sputtered, as I pressed him into the brick wall, his eyes flashing with emotions indiscernible, all except for fear. “Why the fuck would you bring him here?”

“He’s my friend Steve, it was my idea to bring him I thought you’d be okay with it.”

“Do I look like I’m okay with it? First you were late and then you waltz in here with some other guy. You are mine! Don’t you get it?”

He narrowed his eyes in challenge, before pushing me off of him.“You’d think dating a black guy you’d understand that people aren’t fucking property.” 

When my hand collided with his face in a blind rage, much like the ones Bruce tells me about, he didn’t look surprised, just hurt. “I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry, but you just force my hand sometimes.” I caressed his cheek swollen from the impact. “You know I love you right? I’m the only one that loves you right?”

And when he choked out a breathy yes, I kissed him softly.

 


	2. The Early Bird

July 20th 11:06am

“You’re late.” Natasha barked, from where she sat in the middle of the room surrounded by fourteen teenagers who looked up at her with fear. The kids knew only stories of her, mostly about her time in the Russian Ballet, and a select few knew her from the knife debacle of 2012.

“Start your warm-ups!” They slowly broke from their paraplegic state and began stretching, large innocent eyes following Natasha as she stood up, black leotard stretching over her body. 

“Just because you signed up to play babysitter doesn’t mean I did.”

“Yet you watched them for me anyway.” Hints of a smile crossed her lips.

“Were you late today for the same reason you were late Sunday?”

“Pesky pipes, I really should move.” 

“Hmmm.”

 

July 20th 8:32am

There are much better places to spend a Tuesday morning than a warehouse. Not that I’m adverse to working on a Tuesday or in the morning, but I’d had Tony right where I’d wanted him, tangled in our sheets crying out and cursing gods that didn’t even exist. But then we’d gotten the call. So our day started with an all too dusty warehouse and a traitor tied to a wooden chair in the middle of said warehouse.

“It’s too early for this Loki. I haven’t even had my coffee.” Tony said, his back turned away from the dark haired man, facing the long silver table full of sterile instruments. It was there for decoration, Tony only used a blade for these things, everything else was just a scare tactic he had gotten from the movies. “Couldn’t you have betrayed us after 10?” 

“I heard that the early bird always catches the worm.” Loki who tended to be spiteful and head strong in nature, was shaking slightly in the chair despite his biting comment. The small tremor that coursed through the man was something Tony would definitely pick up on. He turned towards him, a small blade glinting in the early morning sunlight. 

“You know that’s not true right? Even the worms aren’t up that early.” Tony sashayed over to Loki, putting on a show like he always did. Almost seven years ago, when I’d first started dating Tony, he’d brought me to one of these and he had shown off like the bastard he is, all wrist flicks and precision. It made me fall in love with him. “So you want to tell me why an entire shipment just disappeared? Poof, into thin air. Crazy, right Bruce?”

“Right.” He smiled at me, not the one I get in private, but his working smile, all bravado and false confidence. 

“Why don’t you talk to your dear captain? He’s the one who told me where to take the shipment.”

Tony was surprised, hell even I was, but he was very careful not to let it show on his face.“You don’t take commands from Rogers, you take them from me and Bruce.”

“I just thought he was the messenger.” 

“Well you know what happens to the messenger.” Tony winked at my comment and stepped closer to Loki, placing the blade against his throat.

“Look Stark,” Tony gritted his teeth. “Steve told me to bring the shipment to a warehouse  in Hell’s Kitchen, that’s all I know.” 

“That’s all?” Tony asked, adding a little pressure.

“Jesus, I said that’s all I fucking know.” 

He nodded sagely, and cut into the skin swiftly efficiently, but with a certain artistry. Blood covered Tony’s torso and the plastic that covered the floor. He wiped his face, smearing the blood on his mouth. “At least I didn’t shoot him.” 

He began unbuttoning his plain white dress shirt, discarding it on the floor as he waltzed over towards me. Tony was so close that I could feel his breath on my neck. I gripped the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss, teeth clashing, tongues fighting from dominance. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pressed me into the cold metal table, still lined with various instruments of torture. His hands, still covered in Loki’s blood, were fisted into my shirt, pulling at the cotton material. We parted and I looked into his eyes, gleaming with a look I’d become all too familiar with, hunger. 

 

July 20th 7:47am

It’s days like today that I’m thankful for makeup, when the bruising can’t be hidden by an excuse. I know quite a few things about makeup. My mother used to have me do her makeup before she’d go to a show. She always said that he little boy made everything possible. Really I made everything harder for her, but she never told me that, she never showed me that. It was a carefree life, and everytime I call her, always when Steve is gone, I tell her I’m thinking about moving back home, just to hear her say that I’d be welcomed with open arms.

 

July 20th 10:39am

“Challa, come back to bed.” He just hummed in response, his back turned towards me, water dripping from his broad shoulders. T’Challa had woken up early, done some sort of weird yoga stretches and gotten in the shower, all while ignoring my protests for him to stay wrapped up in his insanely soft sheets with me. “Just a quick round before you go.”

“I am not falling victim to your whims today James. I can’t be late again.” He sat down at the edge of the bed, pulling on his black leotard. “The kids have to be there on time, and I have to hold myself to that same standard.”  He turned around and kissed me softly, his nimble fingers grazing my cheek. “I’ll see you tonight though, and we can have all the sex you’d like.”

“I know you’ve got that great dancer’s stamina, but I’m pretty insatiable.” A wicked grin crept across his face as he slung his duffel bag over his shoulder. 

“You keep saying that James, especially when you’ve fallen asleep after round two.”

 

July 20th 9:35am

“Is this all of it? It damn well better be all of it.” Fury asked picking bricks out of the crates. He was suspicious of me, he had a right to be, it’s very hard to go from being Tony Stark’s lackey to an independent boss, and the only way to get there is through Nick Fury.

“Counted it myself.”

“Good.” He holds up a brick and places it in a large black briefcase. “I’ll get my guys on it. If you can keep supplying you’ve got yourself a team.”

 

July 20th 10:38

Bruce could sleep through a fucking hurricane. It’s like as soon as he’s fallen asleep it’ll take a thousand militiamen firing right next to his ear to wake him up. He slept through Pulp Fiction and now he’s slept through the ringing of my phone, although I did have a hand in knocking him out. 

“Stark speaking.”

“Your boy Rogers.”

“What did he do now? Do I need to come down to the school?”

“Cut the bullshit. He’s trying to push your product as his own.”

“We’re handling it.”

“Handle it fast, because your entire shipment just fell into my lap and I know a good opportunity when I see one.”

“Thanks for the heads up Fury. Tell the rest of the hellions I said hi.” 


	3. Pink Matter

July 29th 9:41pm

Red, like cherry sours or fury or love or lust or maybe even roses. Red like his dress shirt, like his eyes, bloodshot. “Why was he here? I told you I didn’t want you around him Sam.” Red like the curtains in my bedroom, red like his voice, angry. 

Red like the wine in the glass, knocked over in the living room, seeping into the cream carpet. “No one will ever want you, you’re fucking useless.” Red like lipstick or rage, like cries bubbling in my throat, trapped. Red like the way his boot connects with my stomach.

Red like Bucky’s sweater, red like the flash of anger in his eyes as he opens the bathroom door. “Steve, what the fuck?” Red like my blood.

 

July 29th 3:17pm

“Can I bring someone to dinner tonight?” Bucky shifted, his hair brushing the olive green bomber jacket that stretched across his shoulders almost tearing at the seams, it was quite obvious that it didn’t belong to him. 

“Is it that hot guy from two weeks ago?” Tony called from across the club where he was tinkering with a gun that looked suspiciously like mine. 

“Uh, yeah. His name’s T’Challa, and I want him to meet everybody.” He smiled softly as he spoke, a happiness that he rarely carried, evident on his face.

“Isn’t it a little fast?”

Bucky scoffed, unaffected by my comment. “Like Tony didn’t bring you in on the second date.”

“Third!” Tony retorted.

“You can bring him, I’ll set the table for six.” 

July 29th 8:32pm

There was something about the way he walked down the street with me. His fingers tangled in mine like the roots of an oak tree in the earth, grounding. His strides are confident and daring, as if he dares anyone to look at him sideways. This man, that I found myself intertwining my soul with, this man, who I’d gifted pieces of myself to, who returned those same gifts with presents of his own. This man, like a muse to ancient poets, this man who held my hand with calloused fingers and never let go. 

“You alright love?” He asked, and squeezed my hand. 

“Just nervous, it’s not everyday you have dinner with...” James nodded in understanding and squeezed my hand once more. I’d only known Tony and Bruce from the whispered conversations in the studio, many referring to them as the King and Queen of Brooklyn, something James had warned me against vocalizing. 

“But it won’t be that bad, you know Sam and Steve.” Based on the little frown that danced at the corners of his mouth he noticed my reaction to Steve’s name. 

“I don’t get why you hate Steve, he’s a good guy.”

“He’s aggressive.”

“I’m aggressive.” He smirked in order to dissipate the building tension. It didn’t fade.

“It’s not the same kind of aggression, I see it in his eyes.” James stopped in front of a brownstone, and looked at me warily. There was no more conversation as we were buzzed into the apartment, only the pulsing squeeze of James’ hand.

 

July 29th 12:11pm

I was sitting in his lap, one of his arms wrapped securely around my middle and the other running long fingers through my hair. We’d sat like that for hours, with T’Challa humming quietly into my ear and occasionally wiping a stray tear.

“I’ve known him all my fucking life, and he...I didn’t think he was...capable of shit like that. God, how could I have been so fucking ignorant?”

“It’s okay to be blindsided once in awhile.” T’Challa shifted a bit, and looked at me with his big chocolate eyes, the kind that held the journeys of a thousand men. “It’s hard to see the bad in those we love.” He pressed a chaste kiss to my lips and went right back to humming his tune. 

 

July 29th 8:30pm

Bruce’s got a thing for cooking. Said he picked it up in one of those foreign countries he visited when he was in college. It was always paired with sob stories about little hungry kids and sickness. Listening to him talk about that shit put me right to sleep, but the food was always worth it. 

He was telling everyone about some relief work he did in India, I’d tuned out occasionally looking around the apartment or tightening my hold on Sam’s waist when he shifted. Bruce had said something about hinduism when I noticed the table. “Why are there six plates?”

“I think Bucky’s bringing his butt buddy.” Tony voiced from where he was wrapped around Bruce, chin tucked into the crook of the other man’s neck. The news arrived with the ringing of the doorbell. A giddy smile spread across Tony’s face. “Looks like the rest of our party has arrived.” He extracted himself from Bruce and made his way over towards the door, all too excited for the evening. I felt Sam shift uncomfortably in my grasp.

Bucky entered first, his hair pulled back into a bun, red cable sweater stretched over his shoulders. But it was the person that followed that really held my attention. T’Challa stood in all black, with his hand in Bucky’s. What fucking bullshit. After being released from Tony’s clutches ‘the happy couple’ drifted over to the table where Bruce was setting down the food. “Why don’t you all sit down?” Bruce said, his voice cutting through the loaded silence. Bucky sat down in his usual spot and T’Challa sat next to him, their hands only breaking when they sat down. 

Tony began the conversation, chatting about the vague details of work, sharing an embarrassing story about Bucky that we all knew by heart, until he turned his attention towards T’Challa. “So what do you do?”

“I’m a dance instructor.” Bucky muttered something about flexibility which had T’Challa blushing into his plate. 

“How is everyone?” Sam asked speaking his first words of the night. He kept his face forward, not even when my shoe collided with his calf.

“Good. We all miss you, even Natasha.” Sam and T’Challa shared a small laugh, like an inside joke I wasn’t privy to.

“You were a dancer?” Tony asked, stuffing his face with curry. 

“Nah, just a receptionist, but Steve thought it would be better for me to quit, work somewhere else.” He shrugged, his shoulder brushing against mine. Tony nodded sagely, seemingly disinterested while Bucky glanced at T’Challa, with one eyebrow raised.

I squeezed Sam’s thigh causing him to jolt up. “Can I talk to you in the bathroom?” He nodded quickly and stood, not meeting T’Challa’s eye. Tony whistled after us, but was quickly shushed by Bruce whose gaze I could feel burning holes into my back.

 

July 29th 3:46pm

“Is tonight the night?” Bruce asked when Bucky had left the club, an lovesick smile on his face. We were sitting in the back booth, Bruce between my legs, his back pressed firmly against my chest.

“For sex or vengeance? Because I think we can do both.” A small laugh bubbled from his chest and I could feel it reverberate throughout my whole body. “It works. We get everybody in the same room, expose all of Cap’s secrets, have someone take him out on the way home.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to just scare him?” Bruce turned towards my slightly, his gaze catching mine. “He was your friend once.” 

“He’s not the kind of guy that stops Bruce, he’ll just keep going until he can’t anymore. I don’t want to take that risk. Not for Sam, not for business.”

“Tonight’s the night then. I’ll call Clint.”

“Tonight’s the night.”  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone cares the tune T'Challa was humming was Frank Ocean's Pink Matter.


	4. Pain/Pleasure/Vice

July 30th 11:32 am

“You guys seriously don’t have to do this,” Sam said, his body tucked into the couch in our living room, Tony’s childhood blanket draped over his lap. “I could’ve just stayed at home.” Tony scoffed and moved from his space in the kitchen juggling three mugs. 

“And risk that bastard being there? No, you’re safer here for now.” Tony handed each of us a mug, mine with tea and Sam’s with coffee. 

“I can’t stay here forever.”

“And we don’t expect you too, I was thinking an extended vacation.” Sam looked apprehensive, varying emotions passing over his desolate face in waves. 

“Just until we can take care of Steve.” I picked up where Tony left off, despite the fact that Clint had given us the go ahead for disposal earlier that morning.

“Your mom still lives in D.C right?” Sam nodded into his mug. 

“I’ve got a friend who lives in D.C, he can offer you some protection, and you’ll get a free trip to go see your family.”

“For how long?” His eyebrow arched in unwavering skepticism, like someone who’d endured too many non-truths for a lifetime. 

“As long as you need.”

 

August 1st 2:46 pm

“You all are dismissed! Remember you don’t have rehearsals the rest of the week!” The kids scrambled out of the studio, all in little packs chatting about practice. The sea of teenagers parted when Natasha entered the room, bright red leotard on from her latest rehearsal.

“What brings you to my neck of the woods?” 

“I want to meet him.”

“Nat...” She raised her hand quickly silencing me.

“I know he’s coming to pick you up so I will be meeting him today.” 

A sigh escaped my lips as I moved across the room to gather my things. “He will be here momentarily, but it will have to be a short interrogation, we have to be at the airport by four.”

“In New York traffic?” 

“We’re being optimistic.” 

Natasha laughed, but her demeanor had slowly turned sour. “I wish I could go.” 

“You’ve got class, I’m sure he’ll understand.” 

She nodded and turned her head towards the door. Clearing her throat she looked back at me with a mischievous smile one that tended to work well when concealing her true emotions. “Is that him?” 

James was talking to the new receptionist with a charming smile on his face, although his eyes weren’t as bright as they usually were. His hair was free from its usual bun and he was still wearing my bomber jacket, despite my many attempts to reclaim the coat. He excused himself from the conversation and made his way over to where I was standing next to Natasha.

“Hey love, you ready to go?” He automatically slotted himself next to me, his arm winding around my waist instinctively, something Natasha seemed to pick up on by the subtle arch of her eyebrow. 

I nodded, and she immediately stepped towards James, holding out a neatly manicured hand. “Hi. I’m Natasha.”

“Bucky, pleased to meet you.” He shook her hand and their eyes met and locked on each other like targets. There was a pregnant silence one that stretched and winded around our bodies, a silence so tense that even the receptionist noticed.

“Alright. James, we need to leave if we want to be on time.”

“Of course. I hope to see you soon Natasha.”

“You too Bucky.” She said drawing out the k in his name. I ushered James out of the studio and to his car all while chatting with him about Sam’s departure when my phone buzzed with a text from Natasha.

_ Nat: He’s a keeper. _

 

July 29th 10:27pm

Fuming, I’d left Stark’s in a hurry ignoring Sam’s cries and Bucky’s questions. It been fucked up enough that that T’Challa bastard was there, but then Bucky just had to open the bathroom door. I’d almost made it home when an arrow landed right in front of me. 

“Hey Stevie! How was dinner? I heard Bruce made curry.”

“Did they send you after me?”

“Oh yeah, and I got an earful about your...” Clint twisted an arrow between his fingers, “Extracurricular activities. You’ve been a naughty boy Stevie.” 

He put an arrow in his bow and aimed it at me. “You shouldn’t have betrayed them you know, shouldn’t have done a lot of things.”

“Are you going to come down from your perch Hawk? Or keep making threats?” Clint released the arrow, and it landed right below my sternum, releasing a gas that seemed to envelope the area. As I feel to the ground gagging on the vapors, his clear voice broke through the haze. “Come on Stevie, we’re about to have some fun.” 

 

August 4th 7:34pm

T’Challa’s eyes, the ones like soot and silk, scanned the open menu in front of him. “Everything on this menu looks expensive James.” He eyed me suspiciously, ever so often glancing at the restaurant's customers, and the way they regarded him. I’d surprised him right after he’d gotten off of work, told him to get dressed for a night out, but judging by the uneasiness in his gaze and the way he shifted ever so slightly in the leather seats it wasn’t what he was expecting.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s my treat.”

“There is a difference between a treat and a waste of money.” I grabbed his hand from where it rested on the table.

“Hey, nothing I do for you is a waste of money, besides it was time I took you on a real date, wined and dined you, you know? Because you're worth every penny love.” T’Challa blushed in that barely noticeable kind of way, when you could only see it if you looked hard enough kind of way. “Get the filet mignon or the weird chocolate thing, or whatever you want, you deserve it.”

“Well, maybe I’ll get the lobster...since you’re treating me.”

 

August 5th 1:28pm

There were very few things I did without Bruce, and while our dependency on each other was said to be a weakness or the result of years of emotional torture it was something that kept us both alive. But when I left the apartment that morning after a lengthy discussion about our game plan and a few rounds of kitchen sex, I knew that this was definitely something I had to do alone. 

I rang the doorbell to Bucky’s apartment, knowing he was inside since it was T’Challa’s day off. A few shouts and an odd crash preceded the opening of the door and a very shirtless, very toned dancer looked up at me with an joyful yet exasperated look on his face. “Tony! Come in!” He ushered me into the apartment, picking up a discarded dress shirt up off the floor, one that I knew belonged to Bucky because I bought it for him. 

“Come ‘ere Kitten.” I heard Bucky call from the bedroom, much to T’Challa’s shock.

“James, get dressed! You’ve got company!” An audible sigh was heard from the far side of the apartment and Bucky emerged in a loose t-shirt and joggers and took a seat next to me on the couch, pulling T’Challa down with him.

“Hey Tony. No Bruce?”

“He wanted to do some meditation, and you know I’m not into that hippie dippy shit, but it did give me an opportunity to come talk to you.” 

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Me and Bruce, we want you to take over some of Steve’s responsibilities. We think you’re ready, and since he’s out of the equation, we need someone to step up, and that someone should be you.”

Bucky looked conflicted at the mention of Steve and T’Challa just grimaced. “I want to, but shouldn’t we wait... in his honor?”

“A traitor has no honor Bucky. You know this. Accept the job.” He noticed the forceful lilt of my voice and nodded. “Good, here’s your raise. See you on Monday.” Tossing an envelope into his lap I left the two lovers to their devices, so I could return to my own.

 

August 1st 4:09pm

Everyone was here, Tony, Bruce, Bucky and T’Challa all standing on the curb outside of the airport huddled into each other, looking at me with varying degrees of sadness. We’d done the hugs, the customary goodbyes, where T’Challa held me for too long and Tony shoved more money than I’d ever need into my pockets and now we were staring, memorizing each other’s faces for the impending separation

“I’ll be back soon.” I said breaking the silence that threatened to engulf us.

“And we’ll be down there within the month for a visit.” T’Challa said, being held back from another century long hug by Bucky, who’d just nodded in response to T’Challa’s words.

“Know that you can always come back to Brooklyn. We’ve got you.” Bruce said motioning towards me.

“I know.” Everyone nodded and I hefted my duffel bag back onto my shoulder. “I’ll miss you guys.” I turned quickly not giving them a chance to respond. Wiping a tear from my eye, I walked away from them, from that life, from Steve and only once did I look back.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/saphireandbrokenglass


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